


Paint

by Linda18



Category: due South
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-02-09
Updated: 2000-02-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linda18/pseuds/Linda18
Summary: Ray decides to decorate in his own unique way.





	Paint

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Due South and all of its characters belong to Alliance Communications.

Linda@hamgdns.freeserve.co.uk

A short silly story in answer to Kari's challenge. Enjoy.

(A note - Ray's painting style is a lot like mine!)

PAINT

by Linda Hughes

Stanley Raymond Kowalski hummed to himself as he struggled to open his apartment door, battling with the three carrier bags he was trying to balance between the door and one knee. He had a long weekend off duty, and he had decided on the spare of the moment to re-decorate his living room. He had risen early making it to the DIY store before they had opened. He had waited impatiently in the GTO, spending the time studying various paint charts. When the doors had finally opened, he had hurried down the aisles picking up pots of paint and various other materials and equipment that he would need for his project. 

Putting on a pot of coffee for himself , he quickly changed into a pair of old jeans and a blue over shirt. Pouring himself a mug of coffee, he added smarties to the warm drink and surveyed his living room. "Have to move the furniture Kowalski," he said to himself as he started to pull the couch towards the bedroom. After an hour, he had managed to place most the smaller pieces of furniture into his bedroom, along with his book collection, CD collection, pictures from the wall, bike and various smaller ornaments. He carefully moved his turtle placing the tank carefully on a cleared counter in the small kitchen. He had decided to carefully cover his precious CD player with an old sheet, keeping it in the living room as he liked to work to music. He used other sheets to cover the kitchen counter and stools, the two dressers, the dining table, and as much as the floor as he could. Picking up his mug and taking a quick swig of the sweet liquid, he scanned the room satisfied with his efforts. He hit the random button on the CD player, music filling the room. Turning up the sound. "Yep, I am ready to go," he sung under his breath, dancing his way into the kitchen. 

He quickly filled a bucket of warm water and grabbed a soft cloth from the untidy cupboard under the sink. He danced back into the living room, bucket in his hand. He spent the next two hours washing down the paint work, and singing loudly to the music. Washing down completed, he emptied the water down the sink, hips still swinging in time to the music. He smiled to himself as a thought struck him, "The Five P's. Way to go Benton Buddy. Proper Preparation Prevents Poor Performance." 

He poured himself another mug of coffee. He idly leaned against the counter, sipping at the now lukewarm coffee. "Let the painting begin," he chuckled discarding the mug in the sink. Picking up one of the paint tins, he placed it on the counter. He eventually found a screwdriver in the knife drawer, and used it to prise open the container. A warm pale yellow colour was revealed inside. "Yer going to look lovely on my walls," he murmured pleased as he gently stirred the paint with a wooden mixing spoon.

He noticed that the music had stopped, and moved quickly to his bedroom. Rummaging through his scattered possessions finding five more CDs to play. Triumphant, he returned to the living room. Once inserted in the machine, he hit the random button again, and danced his way over to the counter. "Ohhh what a feeling. What a russsh," he sang to himself. 

Picking up his newly purchased paint brush, he dipped it carefully into the paint coating the brush in the pale yellow colour. Moving to the nearest wall, he proceeded to apply the paint with small up and down strokes. Standing back, he squinted at the colour to make sure that he liked it. Deciding that it would make his living room look brighter, he dipped his brush into the pot again. His strokes got more enthusiastic as he started to cover the entire wall, small splashes of paint hitting his jeans, shirt, face and hair. He swayed in time to the music singing loudly, "Just love Junkhouse," he thought as he happily splashed paint onto his walls keeping his brush strokes in rhythm with the music.

Ray had completed the first coat on three of the walls when he decided that he was hungry. He nearly gave up the idea of ordering in a pizza as he couldn't remember where he had put his cell phone for safety. After fifteen minutes of ransacking the kitchen area, he located the phone at the back of a drawer. Pizza, with a double helping of pineapple, ordered he returned to his task of first coating the fourth wall with the pale yellow paint.

Dressed in jeans and a checked shirt, Constable Benton Fraser looked up towards his partner's apartment building. He knew Ray was at home as he had checked the parking lot; the GTO was parked in its usual spot. Fraser had the weekend off, but knew from experience that his blonde partner usually preferred to sleep away his time off. Fraser had felt it prudent to stay away from the Consulate for a while, mainly due to the fact that Diefenbacker was, once again, in trouble with the Inspector. "Well Dief, do you think we ought to call on Ray?" he asked looking down at the wolf. Dief barked in excitement and started to bound towards the entrance. Fraser shook his head, and followed the wolf into the building. He was glad that his two friends got on so well, but had decided along time ago that they were a bad influence on each other.

He could hear the music as he walked along the corridor towards Ray's apartment door. Dief was sitting patiently at the door waiting for Fraser to gain entry to his American friend's apartment where jelly doughnuts awaited him. Fraser removed his hat, and knocked on the door. No answer. Coughing, he knocked louder this time. The door swung open, and his partner stood in front on him paint brush in hand. Fraser tried to prevent his mouth opening in surprise. Ray was bare foot, dressed in old clothes, which were splattered with yellow paint. He looked like he had a case of the measles, and his spiky blonde hair was now tinted with spots of yellow.

"Hiya Frase. Cmon in," he motioned with his paint brush. "Thought you were the pizza delivery."

Fraser stepped into the apartment, and couldn't hide his amazement at the transformation. The usually dull white walls had been painted a muted yellow colour. Ray noticed his expression and grinned. "Whad ya think?" he said sweeping his arms around the room. He hit the stop button of the CD player, the apartment becoming suddenly silent.

"Very nice," Fraser stammered. "I wasn't aware you were planning to decorate this weekend Ray."

Ray shrugged. "Ya know one of those spare of the minute thingys. I just ordered pizza. You and Dief want to stay for lunch?" he asked laying his paint brush down on the counter, grabbing a cloth to wipe the paint from his hands.

"Well if it's no trouble," Fraser said.

"Nah, no trouble. Ready for a break anyways," Ray answered. "Thought you said you were gonna stay at the Consulate this weekend to catch up on yer reading."

Fraser flushed slightly. "Well, I'm afraid we are not welcome at the Consulate at the moment. So we decided to go for a long walk, and Dief thought it would be nice to visit you." Fraser explained.

"Uhh, what's Dief done this time?" Ray asked smiling. He bent to ruffle the wolf's furry head. "What yer done this time mutt?" Dief woofed, a picture of innocence. 

Straightening up Ray looked at his partner, who was fingering the collar of his shirt looking embarrassed. "Well he upset the Inspector again by stealing a speech she had spent two days preparing and refused to reveal its hiding place. She is at this moment ransacking the Consulate endeavouring to find it."

"Good on ya," Ray patted the wolf's head. Dief nuzzled the detective's leg affectionately.

"Ray," Fraser scolded. "Don't encourage him." They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Sorry Frase. But she probably deserved it," Ray said over his shoulder as he went to answer the knock at the door. He came back carrying a pizza box. "Sorry no blubber and lichen," he apologised laughter showing in his clear blue eyes. 

Fraser couldn't help smiling back. "Perhaps next time," he teased.

Placing the pizza box on the counter, Ray disappeared into the kitchen area. "Have to be picnic style," he called.

Fraser looked puzzled. "Picnic style?"

"Ya know on the floor," Ray turned from his task of placing the kettle onto boil. "Bark tea OK for ya?"

"Thank you kindly Ray," Fraser replied.

Ray appeared from the kitchen, three plates under his arm, placing two mugs of tea on the floor. Retrieving the pizza box, he motioned for Fraser to sit on the floor. Crossing his legs, he handed Fraser a plate. "Help yerself," he gestured at the box as he took a large piece of pizza for himself. 

Dief lay down by the partners, a hopeful expression on his face. "I am afraid you don't deserve any pizza," Fraser reproached the wolf. Dief turned his head away from Fraser, and looked at Ray pleading. Ray felt sorry for the wolf, "Oh Frase, don't be so mean. I promised him pizza in the week."

Fraser sighed loudly. "Well, alright then if you promised. And I did notice that you got three plates from the kitchen anyway." Ray blushed, and concentrated on breaking off a piece of pizza for the wolf. Placing it on the third plate, he offered it to Dief. The wolf gobbled the pizza down in one go. Plate licked clean, he moved closer to Ray placing his head on his knee contented. Ray tickled the wolf behind his ears fondly.

Fraser finished his pizza and looked around the apartment again. "I really am impressed Ray. It looks so different. But shouldn't you have painted the ceiling before the walls?"

Ray favoured the Mountie with his best dirty look. "This is how I do decorating. I'll do the ceiling tomorrow. Walls first, then ceiling. It's in my book," he announced smirking.

"Oh and what book would that be?" Fraser asked curious.

"Can't find it now. It's in there somewhere," Ray waved in the general direction of his bedroom. 

"Ahhh," Fraser murmured. "Would you like me to help you finish the walls?" he offered as Ray got up to tidy up the plates and pizza box.

"Ya don't have to Frase," Ray said. 

"I would like to. And it would mean I could stay away from the Consulate a bit longer," Fraser looked hopeful. He really didn't want to go back to the Inspector's wrath, always worried that she would insist that Diefenbacker lived elsewhere.

Ray regarded his partner for a moment. "OK. Grab a brush." he waved in the direction of the kitchen counter. He hit the play button of the CD player and music burst forth filling the apartment with the sounds of the Headstones. "Pick a wall," he said to Fraser as the Mountie appeared from the kitchen armed with a paint brush and a pot of paint. Fraser chose the bedroom door wall. Ray turned back to the window wall. "Pitter patter let's get at 'er," he encouraged as he dipped his brush into the paint pot. 

After half an hour, Fraser turned to pick up a cloth to wipe his hands. He stopped as he watched his partner's painting style. It was certainly unorthodox; Ray was liberally applying the paint in wild up and down strokes. He seemed to be painting in time to the music. He then changed direction, painting from side to side. Fraser smiled to himself. Ray's painting technique fitted his character perfectly; always on the move and unpredictable. He noticed that while he had only completed half his wall, Ray had moved onto his second wall.

Glancing up from his task Ray caught his partner staring at him. "What?" he demanded.

Fraser couldn't help smirking. "I was just thinking that you have a very unorthodox painting technique."

"Works fer me," Ray beamed.

"I notice that your technique seems to involve getting as much paint on you as you do on the walls," Fraser observed wryly.

"Well I can't help it if the paint daren't touch you," Ray replied sarcastically.

"I wouldn't say that. It's just that I am," Fraser searched carefully for the right words. "More circumspect with my brush strokes."

Ray narrowed his blue eyes. "More circumspect. That's Canadian for slower," he accused lightly.

"Meticulous," Fraser countered. 

"Leisurely," Ray continued to tease.

"Painstaking," Fraser persisted.

"Slow," Ray continued to insist, advancing on his partner. He waved his brush at the window and adjoining wall. "Look I've done two walls to your half wall."

"Well yes alright then, maybe slightly slower," Fraser finally conceded. Ray smiled in triumph. "But I still have less paint upon my person than you do," Fraser said primly Ray half scowled at the Mountie. "Have you looked in a mirror Ray?" Fraser asked ignoring the look.

"Nah," Ray answered defiantly. "Aint decorating unless you get covered in paint."

"Ahhh," Fraser murmured turning back to his wall.

"What does ahhh mean Frase?" Ray challenged stepping up behind his partner.

Fraser carried on painting, "It doesn't mean anything Ray."

"Ahhh," Ray mimicked his partner's tone. Fraser swung round gaping at his partner. "Got yer," Ray laughed with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

Fraser shook his head in defeat, "I still maintain that you needn't get so much paint on oneself if you are careful," he expressed firmly in his best Mountie-like voice.

Ray pulled a face. "Careful huh." Stepping quickly up to his partner, Ray flicked his paint brush at the Mountie. Fraser's mouth dropped open in shock as the yellow paint hit his checked shirt. Ray grinned and flicked his paint brush again, this time the paint splattered across Fraser's face. Fraser stood frozen to the spot. Ray not one to miss an opportunity stretched his arm out and painted a line down one of Fraser's cheeks making him look like a red Indian with war paint. Ray started to laugh.

The sound of his partner's laugher shook Fraser out of his trance. Dipping his brush in the pot he flicked his brush at Ray, hitting him across the forehead. "Ha," he whooped in an uncharacteristic tone.

"That's totally un-Mountie like," Ray cried in surprise as he quickly moved back to his paint pot to re-arm his brush. He turned as Fraser came up behind him getting the full force of a yellow brush across his shirt. 

"But I'm not in uniform," Fraser chuckled in triumph, but didn't quite manage to move out of range as Ray applied another line of yellow paint down his face. 

Dief, who had been asleep in the kitchen had been awakened by the squeals of laughter, and came into the living room to investigate. He saw his two friends flicking paint at each other, giggling uncontrollably. Immediately wanting to join in the game, he leapt towards the two partners excited just as Ray flicked his brush at Fraser. He completely missed the Mountie and hit the wolf.

The two partners stood across the living room from each other, each with a brush in hand, each splattered with copious amounts of yellow paint. Dief stood in the middle of the two men, his white fur coat tinted with yellow spots. The wolf barked at the two men, trying to attract their attention, managing to feign a look of disgust across his paint speckled face. 

Fraser looked at his wolf, "Oh dear. It would seem that Dief got caught in the crossfire." 

Ray was trying not to laugh. "Don't worry Frase. I'll make it up to him with jelly doughnuts," he announced. Dief woofed in agreement. "So much for meticulous," Ray giggled. "God I wish I had a camera. You should see yourself."

Fraser shot his partner a withering look. "Have you looked at yourself lately?" Fraser tried to sound indignant but failed miserably when a grin spread across his face.

Ray waved his brush in the air. "Told you Frase. It aint decorating unless you get covered in paint."

"Understood," Fraser acknowledged.

THE END

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